White Lilies
by makeshift-rolley
Summary: Caroline Scott struggles to write her final words to her beloved. Edward/Caroline


**Title: **White Lilies  
**Words: **989  
**Pairing**: Edward/Caroline  
**Rating: **K+

* * *

_We have a daughter._

All her letters began with the same line. Caroline wondered why she still kept trying to inform him. A long time ago, she thought if he found out he had a daughter, maybe he'd give up his senseless ambitions and be a good father. That turned out to be as senseless as his ambitions. She never got a reply, only more news informing her of how he was so close to getting his fortune and more excuses why he broke his promise.

Still, Caroline kept writing to him. She wrote about their daughter and her progress from a healthy babe to a clever child, about the work she found to support them and how Jenny reminded her so much of him. At times, she found it difficult to look at her without seeing him.

How her own father abandoned her and left her to die. How this sickness was killing her everyday and how tired she was of insisting him to come home and wished he would just come home with or without that damn fortune.

She wheezed, the pain in her chest made it more difficult to breathe. Perhaps, this was her last chance then, before her illness eats her life away.

_Edward,_

_We have a daughter. Jennifer. _Jenny. _She's beautiful, has your eyes and my face. Her hair is a mixture of ours, golden yellow with a tinge of red. She has your wit, she's a clever girl. Never lets a statement hanging, answer questions with more questions. Everyone is fond of her. She'll do wonders when she grows up. She misses you though she has never met you. She keeps asking for your whereabouts. I tell her the truth yet her questions do not falter. Sometimes, she dreams of adventure and she wants to find you in the West Indies. I only smile, knowing I can stop her from her dreams just as I tried to stop you. _

_Edward, I'm dying._

_On most days, I do not get up from bed. On some days, the coughing fits do not stop. It gets harder and harder to breathe. The doctor says I have a few months. Jenny spends most of her days outside our home with the maidservants. She's better not knowing her mother is in pain and slowly dying each day. I try to smile for her, Edward. I do. I want her to remember me as her lovely and loving mother who was strong enough to raise her on her own, not the sick and fragile woman I am now. Oh, but she knows. I see it when she enters my room. Her eyes are filled with worry. She pretends to be happy, showing me the doll we were supposed to finish before I became ill. But I can see the sadness in her smiles and how her little hands clench when she walks away. _

_If you ever read this or if you even care, please come home. Not for me. No, my time is done. _

For her.

_It must be foolish asking you to come home. You may already have a nice manor surrounded by the prizes and plunder you kept talking about. You may even moved on and forgot about me with the scarcity of your letters. But it's difficult to think what may happen to Jenny once her mother passes on from this world. __She never had a father. Now, she needs one the most._

_If you do come back, I'm not sure if you'll ever see me again. My time is running short._

_But I love you. I always have and I'll always will. _

_Caroline_

Satisfied with the letter, Caroline folded and placed it on the table. Tomorrow, she would send it. Tomorrow, she hoped he would finally listen and leave his quest for fortune behind and come back to _her_. And they could pretend their years apart never happened and they could fall in love once more and be happy.

Caroline turned her head to sleep. To live in dreams where she was loved by the man she longed for and have the family she always wanted, where she could be at peace.

* * *

By her grave, Edward stood with flowers (white lilies and lavender, just like the ones she held at their wedding), in one hand and Jenny in the other. They were silent. He wanted to visit her before they set for London, to say his last goodbyes and wherever she was, hear him admit his faults and apologies. However, Edward didn't know where to begin. He opened his mouth but found no words to say. There was too much to repent for, too much to ask that he found his throat dry when he tried to speak.

"Mother wanted to send this to you," Jenny presented him with a parchment, "But she...well, you know what happened."

It was Caroline's final letter, written on the day before she died. He read it thoroughly, savouring every word. His hands clenched at the parchment as if he was about to tear it apart. He wanted to scream until his voice gave up and to cry until no tears would shed. Instead, he folded the parchment and slipped it into his pocket. He would cherish it and read it again and again.

If only he received this earlier, he would've come home right away. He might have seen her, might have taken care of her and she would've been here, and they would he happy. He never realized the things that were important until it was too late.

But he was finally here, for Jenny. He placed the flowers on her grave, in a few months, he would come back with more. He would have to build his new life first.

He turned to Jenny, "Shall we go to London, my dear?"


End file.
